Missouri Lightnin'
by The Once Caged Bird
Summary: Smooth seas don't make good sailors. Peter is adrift on the destruction of Ego. Also: a baby raccoon. (companion piece #3 to Super-Callous-Fragile-Ballistic-Yondu-the-Freakin'-Badass and Now I Know How Yondu Felt)


**[Lizzy sends Southern suga! And she wrote this to Calm Before the Storm by Sarah Ross. (lyrics used directly below) Shout out to my sis for posting this on her account!]**

' _You had my heart, you took it and ripped it apart_ _  
_ _Now that it's so dark, you can't even wish on a star'_

"He ain't from Missouri. That's all I know."

* * *

Fork tongued lightning cut up the sky. The county sirens were shrieking almost as loud as the wind and the electricity was out. Peter, in a dinosaur onesie, was sandwiched into their tiny hallway closet; blankets and a twin bed mattress boxing him in like plush sandbags in a war trench. Emergency water, sneakers, and a CB radio were close by.

The weatherman on KDO-39 was saying that there was another tornado spotted near the main highway, making tonight a record-breaking night for tornados in rural Missouri. The six-year-old played a game with his flashlight, turning it off and on again between thunder peals. His mom opened the closet door.

"You alright in here, Petey?"

Meredith Quill's voice was hoarse from coughing. She clutched at her drip stand which she had wheeled down the hallway with her. Her parlor was ashen and she wasn't wearing her wig. Peter knew from how hunched she stood that they'd have to go back to the hospital soon.

"Why can't you stay in here with me?"

"I'm cooking your favorite type of Storm Soup. I've gotta keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn't burn, silly."

Peter stuck his tongue out at her.

"You're silly! Storm Soup is just cereal with milk!"

Meredith drew herself up as much as she could and smiled mischievously at her son.

"Well! For someone who named Storm Soup you don't seem to understand the mechanics of it. Maybe I should just keep all the Storm Soup for myself."

"Nuh-uh! I want some too! I want it with chocolate milk. Please, please!"

Meredith feigned making a tough decision and finally nodded.

"Okay. I guess the inventor of Storm Soup can have some since he used the magic word."

Meredith soon returned with a bowl of Cocoa Pebbles and a spoon. Peter took them carefully from her shaking hands. He sat on the closet floor cross-legged and began wolfing down cereal. Unfortunately, his mother noticed the moving blanket next to him.

"That better not be the baby raccoon I told you to release yesterday."

Peter froze mid-spoonful.

"Moooomm! He's still hurt!"

"No he's not. The ranger already came and bandaged him up."

"But he's too 'fraid of the lightnin'."

Peter removed the blanket to reveal a cowering ball of fur with dissolvable stitches in both forepaws. Whenever there was a tremendous boom from the storm outside the creature quaked fiercely.

Meredith shook her head, exasperated. Her son swaddled the animal up again.

"Kit didn't want to leave so I let him stay. And now it's lightnin'in' and he's 'fraid so he can't go. So there."

"Oh, Petey. You can't keep the kit."

"Just Kit. Like Knight Rider."

"Oh boy…..".

Meredith leaned against the doorframe to steady herself. Wordlessly, Peter offered to be a crutch and helped her to the living room. His mom was leaning on him more and more as the days went by and sadly it was only becoming easier to bear her weight. She was so skinny.

Peter shined his flashlight on their La-Z-boy which was patchy with duct-tape. Meredith let herself sink into the piece of furniture.

"How about a bedtime story?" she asked.

Peter frowned and ran back to the hallway closet. Meredith didn't have to wait long for his stampeding return to the living room, pop-up book in hand.

It was _Mariner's First Dive._ The book featured drawings of a sailor who fell overboard and thanks largely to a chatty and magical skate, got to explore the depths whilst learning about them. Factoids and blurbs were jotted down on different sepia toned segments of each page in a font intended to represent the Mariner's personal notes.

"I don't want a story. I gotta study."

"How come my little Star Lord?"

Peter crawled up into his mother's lap and got comfortable. He flipped to where he'd left off at: _Whirpools Are Not Funpools_.

"Cuz Johnny Blevins said I was a country hick who didn't know nothin'. He said that makes me mean and stupid."

The corners of Meredith's mouth turned up in an expression that was half amused and half sour.

"Didn't Johnny just move here?"

Peter nodded.

"From California. He's seen the ocean. And he knows loads about it. But I'm gonna know more. I can read faster than he can."

Meredith ruffled Peter's hair.

"What if you read a book about making friends and shared your findings with Johnny?" she leaned in and asked.

"No way! His mom put a whole box of Oreos in his lunchbox and he didn't give anybody else any! Or trade 'em for chips!"

Peter felt Meredith hug him.

"She's just lookin' out for Johnny. He's upset and needs time to get used to his new home. Like the Mariner. See."

Meredith indicated the Mariner not liking his underwater waterbed because he kept floating off of it and had to strap himself down with kelp in order to sleep.

Peter giggled at how frustrated the Mariner looked. He twisted around in his mom's lap and stared into eyes that had heavy enough bags under them to resemble Kit.

"Mom, can we go to the ocean?"

"Mommy's too sick Petey. Next summer, your grandpa-"

"I wanna go with you!"

Meredith stroked her son's chubby face, trying to massage the worry lines out of it. They didn't compliment a kindergartner. When she spoke, she was quiet and contemplative.

"Smooth seas don't make good sailors. Do you know what that means, Petey?"

Peter shook his head.

"Life can get rough but it can bring some of the brightest things out in us. We have to weather the storms the best we're able."

Blinking, her son tried to absorb the meaning behind the phrase. Meredith continued to stroke his face and eventually he relaxed.

"We don't have to go to the ocean. Not tonight at least," Peter announced.

Meredith blew a sigh of exaggerated relief.

"My checkbook and I thank you, Mr. Quill."

Peter returned his mother's hug. "Can we stay home and not go to the hospital instead?" he asked.

"Home is wherever you are, Star Lord. And I wish on some big ole star I could say yes."

* * *

" _You're home, Peter."_

Those words echoed in his head as he played catch, actual CATCH, with his ACTUAL father.

Zardu Hasselfrau eat your heart out!

Peter couldn't believe how much his life had changed in barely two days. Rugged sharp-shooting leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy and now heir to an entire planet?! Granted it was no bigger than Earth's moon but c'mon!

So, yeah, the vine covered spires and bridges reminded him a tad too much of the Louisiana forests choked by kudzu he'd seen visiting Uncle Richard – but Peter could get used to it, and in time he might come to call it exotic. His all-consuming impulse to find a weed whacker would simmer down at some point.

A breeze swished the tails of his Ravager coat. The air was fresh here. Nothing like the ship he grew up on. And to think – Kraglin had been hinting for years that a captaincy was in his future, providing he played his cards right.

How the hell was Peter meant to get sold on _that_ idea?

He tossed the ball of light back to Ego as his thoughts turned resentful.

He'd gone and grown into a Ravager with a reputation before the Guardians. There were many aboard the Eclector who'd urged him to begin a faction of his own. Crewmates by the dozens had said they'd transfer ships if Stakar awarded him the rank of captain. Even that **blue asshole** gave his blessing to the venture!

Well, he'd referred to Peter as a pansy and practically dared him to become a captain in his own right **"** **if he** _ **even**_ **could"** – but with Yondu that was more or less the same thing.

Ego smiled at Peter as they played. The sun set gloriously around them on the palace grounds.

Yondu had said a spacefarer's place was with his crew but that was just to get Pete to stick close to the nest long after he could fly on his own.

Here, finally home, Peter Quill didn't have to prove anything. For once.

Forget Kraglin's hints. Forget Yondu.

Why be a captain – when he could be the son of a god?

* * *

Peter was lost. Mortal and lost.

It seemed like he wasn't going to live epically ever after, after all. This awful place really _was_ Kudzu Planet.

Ego's pods were no longer strangling the worlds he'd planted them on but Peter would be swallowed alive just the same.

His knees hit the dirt. He was out of gas.

Exactly how Yondu found him when Mom died…..

A body **collided** with his own.

They were rocketing past crumbling rock formations and away from the planet's inferno. Yondu had come back for him! Up they went, through layers of atmosphere. Peter couldn't describe the joy bubbling in his throat but then, when they'd cleared the planet entirely, he realized Yondu didn't have a space suit. Gladness became panic.

"I'm sorry I didn't do none of it right."

Peter screamed at Yondu Udonta. He couldn't lose his dad. _Not now!_

That ridiculous **farce** behind him was dissolving but his real home was dying from space exposure right in front of his nose. Slipping through his fingers in the vacuum.

Yondu tenderly stroked Peter's face the way Meredith Quill had back in Missouri. His last familial gesture.

You're not supposed to hear anything in space. But besides his own screams, Peter heard rolls of thunder across the Midwest flatlands.

* * *

Last one in my ficlet set! Hope you liked the Mama Quill moments. Couldn't resist a Jurassic World tie-in. Stay awesome, y'all


End file.
